Original Story When I was a kid, my sisters and I would go and stay with my grandparents for a week during the summer. My grandparents would take us to the pool to swim, take us to the fair, let us stay up late and let us order pizza at 11 o’clock at night if we wanted. They were the fun grandparents that any kid would be lucky to have. My grandpa was a funny man, always telling us stories that were most likely made up, and always making jokes. He played a lot of games with us, and one of the games that we played was called “Groomba”. He told us that a groomba was a polish monster that ate little kids in the middle of the night, and of course we didn’t believe him, but when you are a kid it’s always fun to be scared. When he decided that he wanted to give us a scare, he would start going around the house turning off all the lights one by one. We usually didn’t even notice that he was doing it until most of the house was dark. There wasn’t really a point to the game except trying to scare us. Sometimes he would go into the backyard through the sliding glass door in the master bedroom, his shirt over his head and dragging his feet. We would scream when we saw him through the window of the living room! At that point we would usually all go find a hiding place, and hope that he didn’t catch us. We always hid in pairs or groups, but one night, as I wedged myself among the shoes in the bottom of the master closet, my oldest sister decided she wasn’t going to fit, and took off down the hallway to find another spot to hide. I was alone, and being about 10 at the time, I was terrified. As the sound of her footsteps faded down the hallway, all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing. Everyone was hiding. The house was silent. Suddenly I heard the sliding glass door open. I froze. I could hear the shuffling of feet on the floor, and I tried not to make a sound. My heart was beating out of my chest. Even though I didn’t hear him move from the doorway, I knew that at any moment, my grandpa was going to pull the closet door open and jump at me, or make some kind of scary noise to make me scream. But the scream that came wasn’t from me, it came from somewhere else in the house. It was my sisters. When the screams ended, the giggling began. My sisters muffled voices talking excitedly. My grandma laughing. And then, my grandpas muffled voice, praising them for the good hiding place. The sliding door slammed shut, and I heard the footsteps on the concrete in the backyard, running. I stayed frozen in the closet for a long while, terrified to come out, not wanting to face the fact that someone else had been in the room with me moments ago.
Posted on: Wed, 19 Jun 2013 05:21:04 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015